Intern year is coming to an end and I could not be happier. Despite the awfulness and struggle of this year, it's a little bittersweet, partly because I have met some good people, but mostly because I hate change. Mostly, it means I have to move again, cross-country, for the third time in five years.
I'm moving to take advantage of an amazing opportunity in a fun city with lots of close friends, which is a nice change from this past year. I will be starting a job in orthopaedic research in a department that appears supportive of helping me achieve my goal of eventually matching into ortho at some point in the future. I'm excited for so many reasons, and I believe it's a step in the right direction both personally and professionally.
Having said all that, I've decided this will be my last move in pursuit of being an orthopaedic surgeon. If this doesn't work out or turns into a dead end, I'm done. I'm not moving for another research spot or another prelim year or another hope that things will eventually work out.*
I'm mentally exhausted from having such an uncertain future, and uprooting and relocating annually to pursue this pipe dream that may never happen has added even more stress onto an incredibly stressful situation.
What I've desired most throughout my entire life is stability and this is quite the opposite of that. This past year has taught me that there is more to life than work and I'm ready to prioritize my personal goals over my professional ones for the first time in years.
I still plan on busting my butt over the next year to impress my superiors and work towards an orthopaedic residency because ortho is what I really love and want to do. But I'm also coming to terms with the fact that the process of achieving that goal may not be worth it and that there will come a time to let that dream go.
I haven't gotten to the point yet where I'm ready to move on. I have a few more tries left in me but I also don't want it to come at the expense of my sanity. While I plan to pursue ortho for the near future, I'm also not going to keep putting my life on hold and sacrifice my personal life to the extent I did this past year.
While I cannot control my professional stability at this point in life, I am going to work very hard at feeling fulfilled and stable in my personal life, which is where the "No more moves" rule comes into play.
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* The exception to this is moving for a categorical orthopaedic residency position. That's about the only reason I would move away from my new city. That, and family. Family trumps all.
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Sunday, June 9, 2019
Tuesday, July 26, 2016
Dollar signs
The other day, we had a patient in the ICU. As our team of 10 (attending, resident, intern, sub-I, and 6 students) pulled up to the patient's room during rounds, we joined the equally large ICU team in front of the sliding glass doors.
For a few minutes, the head of our team chatted with the head of the ICU team about our patient's care. I spaced out during their conversation because all I could think about was how much money had gone into educating all the people currently participating in this patient's care.
Between the 20 people (I counted) huddled around room 1001, which included attendings, residents, and students, millions of dollars had been invested in our education through undergrad, medical school, and residency.*
All to keep one patient alive.
It was a sobering realization of the cost of healthcare in this country and the long path we had all taken to be there.
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* Although we get paid during residency, each resident's spot is subsidized by the government. So money is still being invested in their training.
For a few minutes, the head of our team chatted with the head of the ICU team about our patient's care. I spaced out during their conversation because all I could think about was how much money had gone into educating all the people currently participating in this patient's care.
Between the 20 people (I counted) huddled around room 1001, which included attendings, residents, and students, millions of dollars had been invested in our education through undergrad, medical school, and residency.*
All to keep one patient alive.
It was a sobering realization of the cost of healthcare in this country and the long path we had all taken to be there.
---
* Although we get paid during residency, each resident's spot is subsidized by the government. So money is still being invested in their training.
Friday, March 4, 2016
The time I almost quit medical school
A few months ago, I was done. I'd met with our dean of student affairs. I even floated the idea by my parents in a sarcastic manner to see how they would react (not well, even in a purely hypothetical situation). I was figuring out what I would do with a future that didn't involve medicine.
Partly because I couldn't imagine such a life and partly because I got some sleep and my hormones calmed down*, I stuck it out and here I am. But for about a week there, I was very close to throwing it all away.
I think it was mostly a grass-is-greener kind of thought-process, even though I like to think I've outgrown that kind of thinking. I had had an awesome summer of fun in the sun, family, and doing what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. About a month into school, my brother threw a fantastic wedding, and then he did it again in the motherland for the rest of our family. My school and exam schedule allowed me to celebrate both of those awesome occasions, which made coming back to school in between all those festivities that much more painful.
The transition from such a high and doing all the things that truly make me happy (family, adventure, travel) to the low of things I really, really dislike (rote memorization of bullshit drugs whose names make no sense and will likely change by the time I hit the wards) was too much of a shock to my psyche. Add lack of sleep and some wacky hormones, and I was in for a perfect storm of self-pity.
There were also more legitimate reasons for why I thought medicine wasn't for me, which were much more alarming. The scariest thing was that they weren't new or original; they had just re-reared their ugly heads. I have had reservations about the medicine track ever since I seriously considered becoming a doctor freshman year of college. It's a big part of the reason why it took me nearly a decade after undergrad to bite the bullet and finally apply to medical school.**
The most disturbing was that there is nothing in medicine (including ortho) that I'm truly passionate about. This statement applies to most things in my life in that I have a wide variety of interests but nothing I truly live for. I like a little bit of everything, which is great for hobbies but not so great for the gauntlet that is medical training.
For example, over the summer, I spent a day in a rural clinic and we had a patient with really bad jaundice. Her urine was the color of maple syrup and her eyes were practically the color of my highlighter. The doctors gathered the med students around saying we'd probably never see jaundice this bad again. Everyone oohed and awwed in wonder. I couldn't care less. Funny urine. Big deal.
Maybe that simply meant that I'm not suited for primary care, which I've known for a while. Or that I was seriously burned out and needed a break from all things medicine. But in the depths of my umpteenth mid-life crisis, I kept coming back to that moment of near-revulsion and apathy which only fueled my confusion about what I was doing with my life.
What if after all this, I couldn't find something within this field that could make me happy, fulfilled, and make all this bullshit worthwhile? I wasn't looking for the highest of highs or to be the person that saves the world. I just wanted something more substantial with more concrete satisfaction than my previous job of staring at a computer screen and hoping my work would have some impact years down the line.
A year and a half into school, seemingly nothing had changed in that regard and I wasn't sure it ever would. That was the kicker. I could get through medical school and residency. Both are temporary. But if I couldn't find satisfaction in working with patients, which would be the bulk of my post-training professional life, why was I doing this at all?
For that week, I had one foot out the door. I would complain to anyone that would listen about how miserable I was and was only half-joking when I would say, "My tuition is paid through the New Year so I don't have to make a decision yet."
But, I realized I needed to stay within five minutes of meeting with my dean. Her simple suggestion to take a leave of absence to figure things out resulted in a visceral hell-no-I'm-not-doing-that reaction from me. It was pretty telling and made it clear to me that I needed to buck up, princess. Just as quickly as I had decided to quit, I was back on the med school train.
Unfortunately, threatening to quit school results in meetings with a lot of people trying to talk you out of it. So even though my dean had unknowingly succeeded in convincing me to stay during our first meeting, she also made an appointment for me to meet with Dr. D, one of our most popular and personable professors.
About a week later, I sat down with Dr. D and felt like an impostor in explaining my reasons for wanting to leave medicine, because I didn't really believe all of them anymore. But I kept up the charade to see what she would say. She essentially rehashed the same argument I gave myself when I finally decided to pursue this medicine business a few years ago.
There are so many opportunities within medicine, and patient care is only a fraction of what one can do as a doctor. If you get bored doing clinic, there's medical education, community outreach, pharmaceuticals, and Sanjay Gupta. The MD after the name opens up so many doors and puts you "on the other side of the table," as Dr. D put it. Sticking it out would have significant professional benefits and would be well worth it. She focused on my logical reservations about medicine and addressed them head-on. If I wasn't convinced to stay before speaking with Dr. D, I was definitely hooked when I was done with her.***
Months have passed since my near-quitting and although I'm now in a better place, all of my doubts about continuing with medicine have not completely disappeared. I still worry that I'm not going to fully enjoy being a physician, that I'll get bored and frustrated with my work, and that maybe something else would've been more suited towards my personality and what I want out of life.
But then I go to my preceptor and put a face to the patient whose EKG printout I just learned how to interpret. I go to grand rounds and learn the newest protocol for managing traumatic amputations. I scrub in on an ACL reconstruction and get to close a patient's wound.
When I take a step back and look at the whole picture, I realize I'm exactly where I need to be. It did take me years to finally decide on this path, but as a result, that decision was not made lightly. If I didn't give this a shot, I would regret it for the rest of my life. So even though this year has been rough, I don't regret it for a minute.
Times have been tough and will only get tougher. I'm sure this won't be the last time I'll want to quit, but I'm incredibly excited for what lies ahead.
---
*I hate blaming stuff on being a girl, but sometimes it's so obviously the case that I can't ignore it. You'd think by now I could better control my emotions but sometimes they still get the best of me. At least I've learned to recognize when that is and can just wait for it to pass to get on with my normal, adult, rational self.
**I've wanted to be a doctor since I was in high school and worked as an EMT all throughout college. I matriculated in my late 20s. To say I have commitment issues is an understatement.
***Dr. D also pegged my personality within 10 minutes of our meeting. She is an incredible people-reader and it's no wonder she's a fantastic clinician.
Partly because I couldn't imagine such a life and partly because I got some sleep and my hormones calmed down*, I stuck it out and here I am. But for about a week there, I was very close to throwing it all away.
I think it was mostly a grass-is-greener kind of thought-process, even though I like to think I've outgrown that kind of thinking. I had had an awesome summer of fun in the sun, family, and doing what I wanted to do when I wanted to do it. About a month into school, my brother threw a fantastic wedding, and then he did it again in the motherland for the rest of our family. My school and exam schedule allowed me to celebrate both of those awesome occasions, which made coming back to school in between all those festivities that much more painful.
The transition from such a high and doing all the things that truly make me happy (family, adventure, travel) to the low of things I really, really dislike (rote memorization of bullshit drugs whose names make no sense and will likely change by the time I hit the wards) was too much of a shock to my psyche. Add lack of sleep and some wacky hormones, and I was in for a perfect storm of self-pity.
There were also more legitimate reasons for why I thought medicine wasn't for me, which were much more alarming. The scariest thing was that they weren't new or original; they had just re-reared their ugly heads. I have had reservations about the medicine track ever since I seriously considered becoming a doctor freshman year of college. It's a big part of the reason why it took me nearly a decade after undergrad to bite the bullet and finally apply to medical school.**
The most disturbing was that there is nothing in medicine (including ortho) that I'm truly passionate about. This statement applies to most things in my life in that I have a wide variety of interests but nothing I truly live for. I like a little bit of everything, which is great for hobbies but not so great for the gauntlet that is medical training.
For example, over the summer, I spent a day in a rural clinic and we had a patient with really bad jaundice. Her urine was the color of maple syrup and her eyes were practically the color of my highlighter. The doctors gathered the med students around saying we'd probably never see jaundice this bad again. Everyone oohed and awwed in wonder. I couldn't care less. Funny urine. Big deal.
Maybe that simply meant that I'm not suited for primary care, which I've known for a while. Or that I was seriously burned out and needed a break from all things medicine. But in the depths of my umpteenth mid-life crisis, I kept coming back to that moment of near-revulsion and apathy which only fueled my confusion about what I was doing with my life.
What if after all this, I couldn't find something within this field that could make me happy, fulfilled, and make all this bullshit worthwhile? I wasn't looking for the highest of highs or to be the person that saves the world. I just wanted something more substantial with more concrete satisfaction than my previous job of staring at a computer screen and hoping my work would have some impact years down the line.
A year and a half into school, seemingly nothing had changed in that regard and I wasn't sure it ever would. That was the kicker. I could get through medical school and residency. Both are temporary. But if I couldn't find satisfaction in working with patients, which would be the bulk of my post-training professional life, why was I doing this at all?
For that week, I had one foot out the door. I would complain to anyone that would listen about how miserable I was and was only half-joking when I would say, "My tuition is paid through the New Year so I don't have to make a decision yet."
But, I realized I needed to stay within five minutes of meeting with my dean. Her simple suggestion to take a leave of absence to figure things out resulted in a visceral hell-no-I'm-not-doing-that reaction from me. It was pretty telling and made it clear to me that I needed to buck up, princess. Just as quickly as I had decided to quit, I was back on the med school train.
Unfortunately, threatening to quit school results in meetings with a lot of people trying to talk you out of it. So even though my dean had unknowingly succeeded in convincing me to stay during our first meeting, she also made an appointment for me to meet with Dr. D, one of our most popular and personable professors.
About a week later, I sat down with Dr. D and felt like an impostor in explaining my reasons for wanting to leave medicine, because I didn't really believe all of them anymore. But I kept up the charade to see what she would say. She essentially rehashed the same argument I gave myself when I finally decided to pursue this medicine business a few years ago.
There are so many opportunities within medicine, and patient care is only a fraction of what one can do as a doctor. If you get bored doing clinic, there's medical education, community outreach, pharmaceuticals, and Sanjay Gupta. The MD after the name opens up so many doors and puts you "on the other side of the table," as Dr. D put it. Sticking it out would have significant professional benefits and would be well worth it. She focused on my logical reservations about medicine and addressed them head-on. If I wasn't convinced to stay before speaking with Dr. D, I was definitely hooked when I was done with her.***
Months have passed since my near-quitting and although I'm now in a better place, all of my doubts about continuing with medicine have not completely disappeared. I still worry that I'm not going to fully enjoy being a physician, that I'll get bored and frustrated with my work, and that maybe something else would've been more suited towards my personality and what I want out of life.
But then I go to my preceptor and put a face to the patient whose EKG printout I just learned how to interpret. I go to grand rounds and learn the newest protocol for managing traumatic amputations. I scrub in on an ACL reconstruction and get to close a patient's wound.
When I take a step back and look at the whole picture, I realize I'm exactly where I need to be. It did take me years to finally decide on this path, but as a result, that decision was not made lightly. If I didn't give this a shot, I would regret it for the rest of my life. So even though this year has been rough, I don't regret it for a minute.
Times have been tough and will only get tougher. I'm sure this won't be the last time I'll want to quit, but I'm incredibly excited for what lies ahead.
---
*I hate blaming stuff on being a girl, but sometimes it's so obviously the case that I can't ignore it. You'd think by now I could better control my emotions but sometimes they still get the best of me. At least I've learned to recognize when that is and can just wait for it to pass to get on with my normal, adult, rational self.
**I've wanted to be a doctor since I was in high school and worked as an EMT all throughout college. I matriculated in my late 20s. To say I have commitment issues is an understatement.
***Dr. D also pegged my personality within 10 minutes of our meeting. She is an incredible people-reader and it's no wonder she's a fantastic clinician.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
An update of sorts
A lot has happened since I last wrote in May (!), as it should since eight months is a long time. The bullet point version is:
Now here I am, within eight weeks of being done with our pre-clinical curriculum. It's really scary that in four months I'll be in the hospital, seeing real patients, and somewhat having to know what is wrong with them. I know there'll be heavy supervision and not that much real responsibility. I'll adapt and do just fine, but having to integrate and apply all this knowledge that has only been tested by multiple-choice is a bit intimidating. It's all very surreal as well as super exciting!
Before all that, though, comes the monster that is Step 1. For those not in the know, Step 1 is the first of three licensing exams in the US. It's the most important test I'll take in medical school because some of the more competitive specialties have relatively high score cutoffs for their residency applicants. Orthopedics is one of those, and seeing how it's my super duper #1 choice, I have to do kind of well.
Long story short, I took the "P = MD" (P for pass) saying a bit too seriously and have barely skated by in every class since anatomy. It's not that I don't know what I'm doing wrong to get these crappy grades. I just don't want to put in the work. Give me a threshold I have to meet, and I'll be a few points above it. Nothing more. Hence the "barely passing my classes" bullet point earlier.
This has been great for my quality of life leading up to this point (I've had A LOT of free time), but it's also put me behind when it comes to being prepared for the Step. I have a fair amount of ground to make up since I didn't learn most things well the first time. But it also means I have a sufficient fire under my butt to buckle down and get things done, which is how I operate best.
---
*Posts about these topics are coming up. Stay tuned!
- Finished first year and block of second
- Spent a month in the tropics learning Spanish and sitting under a palm tree at many beautiful beaches
- Spent another month visiting family in the States and the motherland
- Officially started second year
- Felt super lonely in school*
- Made some friends
- Went to my brother's real wedding Stateside and fake wedding in the motherland
- Nearly quit medical school (seriously)*
- Got my life together (somewhat)
- Went into the holiday break passing all of my classes (barely)
Now here I am, within eight weeks of being done with our pre-clinical curriculum. It's really scary that in four months I'll be in the hospital, seeing real patients, and somewhat having to know what is wrong with them. I know there'll be heavy supervision and not that much real responsibility. I'll adapt and do just fine, but having to integrate and apply all this knowledge that has only been tested by multiple-choice is a bit intimidating. It's all very surreal as well as super exciting!
Before all that, though, comes the monster that is Step 1. For those not in the know, Step 1 is the first of three licensing exams in the US. It's the most important test I'll take in medical school because some of the more competitive specialties have relatively high score cutoffs for their residency applicants. Orthopedics is one of those, and seeing how it's my super duper #1 choice, I have to do kind of well.
Long story short, I took the "P = MD" (P for pass) saying a bit too seriously and have barely skated by in every class since anatomy. It's not that I don't know what I'm doing wrong to get these crappy grades. I just don't want to put in the work. Give me a threshold I have to meet, and I'll be a few points above it. Nothing more. Hence the "barely passing my classes" bullet point earlier.
This has been great for my quality of life leading up to this point (I've had A LOT of free time), but it's also put me behind when it comes to being prepared for the Step. I have a fair amount of ground to make up since I didn't learn most things well the first time. But it also means I have a sufficient fire under my butt to buckle down and get things done, which is how I operate best.
---
*Posts about these topics are coming up. Stay tuned!
Friday, May 8, 2015
Done with first year!
I just finished my last exam of the first year of medical school. That's crazy talk.
I remember the first week as if it was yesterday. I was so overwhelmed and exhausted even though in hindsight we really didn't do that much. I questioned my decision to go to medical school and seriously considered taking it all back. If the first week was so hard and everyone says it only gets worse, I couldn't comprehend how I could (or wanted to) handle the next decade of my life.
Obviously, I've stuck it out. I got used to the course load and I've (somewhat) found my people. Most importantly, I've gotten to see and do some incredible stuff.
Last week, a Parkinson's patient turned off her deep brain stimulator so I could see the untreated symptoms of her disease. The change was immediate and quite shocking.
Tomorrow, I'm going to perform physicals and clear high school students for summer and fall sports.
And next week I'm going to scrub in and assist in putting a rod into a patient's leg after it was shattered by a bullet.
Even though I'm still convinced I know nothing, I'm starting to speak the language of medicine. I recognize and make sense of diseases that were a jumble of words just several months ago. Things are starting to make sense and it's so exciting to be able to understand some of the mechanisms behind the most common medical issues.
I've also experienced the power of the white coat. Within three weeks of starting school, I was being thanked by a woman for participating in the care of her husband who had just been diagnosed with cancer. Little did she know that I had just met my preceptor 30 minutes ago and was listening to the biopsy results with the same deer-in-the-headlights look that she and the patient had. The only difference between us was the white coat on my shoulders and three weeks of anatomy, neither of which prepared me to speak with any sort of authority on her husband's condition. But that white coat made all the difference.
I've progressively become more comfortable in my role as a medical student, but seeing the change in people's reactions whenever I wear the white coat hasn't gotten any less weird. Whether it's a patient and their family treating me like an equal member of the medical team when I walk into a room, or a car stopping for me at a crosswalk instead of gunning it through the light. It all still trips me out.
All in all, it's been a wild ride and I cannot wait to see what the future will bring!
---
P.S. Although I'm no longer an M1 (first year medical student, in med-speak), that doesn't mean we're off for the summer quite yet. We have one M2 block remaining before we break until August. It's apparently three weeks of torture, especially after this last block which was affectionately called "Neurocation". And neurocation I did.
I remember the first week as if it was yesterday. I was so overwhelmed and exhausted even though in hindsight we really didn't do that much. I questioned my decision to go to medical school and seriously considered taking it all back. If the first week was so hard and everyone says it only gets worse, I couldn't comprehend how I could (or wanted to) handle the next decade of my life.
Obviously, I've stuck it out. I got used to the course load and I've (somewhat) found my people. Most importantly, I've gotten to see and do some incredible stuff.
Last week, a Parkinson's patient turned off her deep brain stimulator so I could see the untreated symptoms of her disease. The change was immediate and quite shocking.
Tomorrow, I'm going to perform physicals and clear high school students for summer and fall sports.
And next week I'm going to scrub in and assist in putting a rod into a patient's leg after it was shattered by a bullet.
Even though I'm still convinced I know nothing, I'm starting to speak the language of medicine. I recognize and make sense of diseases that were a jumble of words just several months ago. Things are starting to make sense and it's so exciting to be able to understand some of the mechanisms behind the most common medical issues.
I've also experienced the power of the white coat. Within three weeks of starting school, I was being thanked by a woman for participating in the care of her husband who had just been diagnosed with cancer. Little did she know that I had just met my preceptor 30 minutes ago and was listening to the biopsy results with the same deer-in-the-headlights look that she and the patient had. The only difference between us was the white coat on my shoulders and three weeks of anatomy, neither of which prepared me to speak with any sort of authority on her husband's condition. But that white coat made all the difference.
I've progressively become more comfortable in my role as a medical student, but seeing the change in people's reactions whenever I wear the white coat hasn't gotten any less weird. Whether it's a patient and their family treating me like an equal member of the medical team when I walk into a room, or a car stopping for me at a crosswalk instead of gunning it through the light. It all still trips me out.
All in all, it's been a wild ride and I cannot wait to see what the future will bring!
---
P.S. Although I'm no longer an M1 (first year medical student, in med-speak), that doesn't mean we're off for the summer quite yet. We have one M2 block remaining before we break until August. It's apparently three weeks of torture, especially after this last block which was affectionately called "Neurocation". And neurocation I did.
Thursday, August 14, 2014
Responsibility
While it still hasn't hit me that I'm actually starting medical school, it's slowly starting to dawn on me that I am, sometime in the near future, going to be a doctor. That is a scary thought.
Amongst all the mingling, retreating, and picnicking, we've had a few serious talks at orientation and our White Coat ceremony about what it means to be a doctor.
Our keynote speaker described the first patient that he treated. Our dean spoke about the impact his patients' words of thanks have had on him. And our orientation included a history of the impact our medical school and its doctors have had on the surrounding community.
Every single one of these instances sent shivers down my spine. The quality of my work will no longer just affect my professional reputation or a potential bonus. A good day on the job could have tangible effects on another person's life and future, as could a bad day. I have never felt such a great sense of responsibility before and it's thrilling.
So although it still feels like I'm on vacation meeting new people in a new city and the "first day of medical school" seems very surreal, I am keenly aware of the responsibility that I will acquire once I get an MD after my name in four very short years.
I am incredibly excited, but at the same time very terrified. I'm in for a wild ride.
Amongst all the mingling, retreating, and picnicking, we've had a few serious talks at orientation and our White Coat ceremony about what it means to be a doctor.
Our keynote speaker described the first patient that he treated. Our dean spoke about the impact his patients' words of thanks have had on him. And our orientation included a history of the impact our medical school and its doctors have had on the surrounding community.
Every single one of these instances sent shivers down my spine. The quality of my work will no longer just affect my professional reputation or a potential bonus. A good day on the job could have tangible effects on another person's life and future, as could a bad day. I have never felt such a great sense of responsibility before and it's thrilling.
So although it still feels like I'm on vacation meeting new people in a new city and the "first day of medical school" seems very surreal, I am keenly aware of the responsibility that I will acquire once I get an MD after my name in four very short years.
I am incredibly excited, but at the same time very terrified. I'm in for a wild ride.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Details of a non-traditional medical school application
I'm a non-traditional medical school applicant ("non-trad" in med speak) in that I have spent some time in the real world between graduating from college and applying to medical school. It's been nearly 7 years at this point and I have done a wide variety of things in that time, some of them medicine-related but most of them not at all.
A commenter asked me to elaborate on my activities and what I put on my AMCAS, so here it goes. I don't particularly like lists so instead you get an abridged version of my adult life story, even though it may not seem very abridged. Everything I mention below is in one way or another presented in my primary application. So you're getting essentially what the adcoms got when they received my application, with some flowery commentary thrown in for good measure.
Bright College Years:
My major was in the natural sciences, so a lot of the requirements for my B.S. overlapped with those required for medical school. At the time, it was great to knock out both sets of requirements but in retrospect, I wish I had stayed far away from any BCPM classes during undergrad. I would've had a much easier time getting into medical school that way. But alas, I don't have a time machine so the past remains unchanged as much as I wish otherwise.
As a natural extension of my academic interest in medicine, I began getting involved clinically my freshman year. I volunteered as an EMT at a 911-only ambulance service a couple of towns away from my undergrad campus. Since I was never cleared to drive the ambulance, all of my hours were spent providing direct patient care. Over the course of the three years I spent in EMS, I acquired something like 1,700 hours of clinical community service. It was awesome and is one of the major reasons I am pursuing medicine as a career. I listed it as a meaningful activity and elaborated further on the previous statement.
Other extracurriculars included rugby, which I also listed as a most meaningful activity on my AMCAS, sailing, and Habitat for Humanity, which I had been involved with in high school and continued to work with in college.
Gap Year(s):
I went abroad after graduation and spent the next year and a half sailing the high seas, working in a café, playing rugby, moving to another country whose language I didn't speak, working for food and wine, all before finally coming back stateside to work at a summer camp. Again, this all went into my AMCAS application.
For those ~18 months, I did nothing that went anywhere near medicine. I simply had fun. I learned a lot about myself during that time and a lot of those experiences led me to apply to medical school, all of which I discussed in my personal statement.
I came back to the U.S. because my money ran out (working for food and wine doesn't go far with regard to savings) and because I was tired of living out of a suitcase. I wanted my own sofa and I couldn't have that with my nomadic lifestyle. This part was not in my application, for obvious reasons. I don't think I actually told med schools why I moved back. Only one interviewer has ever asked and I gave her a more eloquent and mature answer, one which didn't involve a sofa.
The Real World:
Unbeknownst to me, the town I moved to after the summer camp experience was a Mecca for the career I had planned to pursue at the time. I hadn't come around to medicine quite yet and was instead focused on working in the industry of my undergrad major.
I got a job in research full-time at the local university and have been here ever since. While the experiences I have had as a member of this research group have been incredible (see the trip to Alaska and other deployments to equally exotic locations), I have ultimately realized that this career is not for me and that I needed to find something else to do.
As soon as I began thinking about medical school again, I started volunteering at the hospital where I've been lucky enough to have direct contact with both patients and physicians. I also enrolled in pre-med classes at the same university I work at since I had to take or retake nearly all of the med school pre-requisites.
I have continued to be heavily involved in rugby as well as with Habitat for Humanity.
Lastly, I went on a medical mission trip with the U.S. Navy to Southeast Asia for a month about a year ago. I have a well-documented interest in international outreach so this wasn't simply a box-checking activity. Instead, it was the perfect combination of the things I'm passionate about: international missions, boats, and medicine. It opened my eyes to how international medicine is really done and somewhat changed what I had envisioned as my future career in medicine.
How all of this is perceived by adcoms (people that matter):
Like I've mentioned before, my application is either loved or hated by the powers that be. I have yet to get a neutral reaction to my experiences and journey to med school. One interviewer has grilled me on why now, how I know I won't quit again, and the like, while a pre-med advisor (Ms. D) simply doesn't like me for reasons I can't explain.
For the most part, though, interviewers were curious and excited to discuss the reasons behind my adventures and wanted to know why I finally came back to medicine after so many years pursuing vastly different things.
I don't think there are any "required" extracurriculars or activities for non-trads. I've known people who got in with very little recent volunteering or practically no research. However, it seems like you need to have one or the other, or a very valid reason for being light in those areas such as family, job, or other pressures. I happened to have both research and volunteering, although I didn't have any publications even though I worked for ~5 years as a research assistant, which I know hurt me at some schools.
My advice to other non-traditional applicants is to first and foremost focus on your grades and MCAT. Those are the most important things in your application. Then, do clinical volunteering/work and shadowing, and maybe get some research in if that's your thing. Primarily, you need to show that you can handle the academic workload. Secondly, you need to be able to show that you know what you're getting yourself into and having those activities on your application will go far in convincing adcoms that you're making an educated decision to pursue medicine.
Generally, activities of non-trads are not more heavily scrutinized per se but rather the reasons behind those decisions are questioned more intensely. It's a lot harder to quit another career to pursue medicine than it is to apply to med school as a junior in college so adcoms want to know why, why, why. In your applications, but more importantly in your interviews, make sure you can convincingly communicate why you switched to medicine and have some evidence/stories to back that up.
Be prepared to discuss any deficiencies you may have in your application, even if the reason that your undergrad grades sucked was because you were young and stupid. Own up to your mistakes and let interviewers know that you've learned from them and that you're better for it.
I'm not an expert on medical school admissions for traditional or non-traditional students by any means. After-all, I've been placed on 5 waitlists and only accepted to one school after applying twice. So take everything I say with a grain of salt.
However, the above "advice" is based on a lot of research on the subject both from SDN (there really is some good stuff there if you wade through the bullshit) and from talking with a lot of people. I haven't always heeded my own advice but now I know better and hope that this helps you, dear commenter.
If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to write below and I'll try to elaborate further.
A commenter asked me to elaborate on my activities and what I put on my AMCAS, so here it goes. I don't particularly like lists so instead you get an abridged version of my adult life story, even though it may not seem very abridged. Everything I mention below is in one way or another presented in my primary application. So you're getting essentially what the adcoms got when they received my application, with some flowery commentary thrown in for good measure.
Bright College Years:
My major was in the natural sciences, so a lot of the requirements for my B.S. overlapped with those required for medical school. At the time, it was great to knock out both sets of requirements but in retrospect, I wish I had stayed far away from any BCPM classes during undergrad. I would've had a much easier time getting into medical school that way. But alas, I don't have a time machine so the past remains unchanged as much as I wish otherwise.
As a natural extension of my academic interest in medicine, I began getting involved clinically my freshman year. I volunteered as an EMT at a 911-only ambulance service a couple of towns away from my undergrad campus. Since I was never cleared to drive the ambulance, all of my hours were spent providing direct patient care. Over the course of the three years I spent in EMS, I acquired something like 1,700 hours of clinical community service. It was awesome and is one of the major reasons I am pursuing medicine as a career. I listed it as a meaningful activity and elaborated further on the previous statement.
Other extracurriculars included rugby, which I also listed as a most meaningful activity on my AMCAS, sailing, and Habitat for Humanity, which I had been involved with in high school and continued to work with in college.
Gap Year(s):
I went abroad after graduation and spent the next year and a half sailing the high seas, working in a café, playing rugby, moving to another country whose language I didn't speak, working for food and wine, all before finally coming back stateside to work at a summer camp. Again, this all went into my AMCAS application.
For those ~18 months, I did nothing that went anywhere near medicine. I simply had fun. I learned a lot about myself during that time and a lot of those experiences led me to apply to medical school, all of which I discussed in my personal statement.
I came back to the U.S. because my money ran out (working for food and wine doesn't go far with regard to savings) and because I was tired of living out of a suitcase. I wanted my own sofa and I couldn't have that with my nomadic lifestyle. This part was not in my application, for obvious reasons. I don't think I actually told med schools why I moved back. Only one interviewer has ever asked and I gave her a more eloquent and mature answer, one which didn't involve a sofa.
The Real World:
Unbeknownst to me, the town I moved to after the summer camp experience was a Mecca for the career I had planned to pursue at the time. I hadn't come around to medicine quite yet and was instead focused on working in the industry of my undergrad major.
I got a job in research full-time at the local university and have been here ever since. While the experiences I have had as a member of this research group have been incredible (see the trip to Alaska and other deployments to equally exotic locations), I have ultimately realized that this career is not for me and that I needed to find something else to do.
As soon as I began thinking about medical school again, I started volunteering at the hospital where I've been lucky enough to have direct contact with both patients and physicians. I also enrolled in pre-med classes at the same university I work at since I had to take or retake nearly all of the med school pre-requisites.
I have continued to be heavily involved in rugby as well as with Habitat for Humanity.
Lastly, I went on a medical mission trip with the U.S. Navy to Southeast Asia for a month about a year ago. I have a well-documented interest in international outreach so this wasn't simply a box-checking activity. Instead, it was the perfect combination of the things I'm passionate about: international missions, boats, and medicine. It opened my eyes to how international medicine is really done and somewhat changed what I had envisioned as my future career in medicine.
How all of this is perceived by adcoms (people that matter):
Like I've mentioned before, my application is either loved or hated by the powers that be. I have yet to get a neutral reaction to my experiences and journey to med school. One interviewer has grilled me on why now, how I know I won't quit again, and the like, while a pre-med advisor (Ms. D) simply doesn't like me for reasons I can't explain.
For the most part, though, interviewers were curious and excited to discuss the reasons behind my adventures and wanted to know why I finally came back to medicine after so many years pursuing vastly different things.
I don't think there are any "required" extracurriculars or activities for non-trads. I've known people who got in with very little recent volunteering or practically no research. However, it seems like you need to have one or the other, or a very valid reason for being light in those areas such as family, job, or other pressures. I happened to have both research and volunteering, although I didn't have any publications even though I worked for ~5 years as a research assistant, which I know hurt me at some schools.
My advice to other non-traditional applicants is to first and foremost focus on your grades and MCAT. Those are the most important things in your application. Then, do clinical volunteering/work and shadowing, and maybe get some research in if that's your thing. Primarily, you need to show that you can handle the academic workload. Secondly, you need to be able to show that you know what you're getting yourself into and having those activities on your application will go far in convincing adcoms that you're making an educated decision to pursue medicine.
Generally, activities of non-trads are not more heavily scrutinized per se but rather the reasons behind those decisions are questioned more intensely. It's a lot harder to quit another career to pursue medicine than it is to apply to med school as a junior in college so adcoms want to know why, why, why. In your applications, but more importantly in your interviews, make sure you can convincingly communicate why you switched to medicine and have some evidence/stories to back that up.
Be prepared to discuss any deficiencies you may have in your application, even if the reason that your undergrad grades sucked was because you were young and stupid. Own up to your mistakes and let interviewers know that you've learned from them and that you're better for it.
I'm not an expert on medical school admissions for traditional or non-traditional students by any means. After-all, I've been placed on 5 waitlists and only accepted to one school after applying twice. So take everything I say with a grain of salt.
However, the above "advice" is based on a lot of research on the subject both from SDN (there really is some good stuff there if you wade through the bullshit) and from talking with a lot of people. I haven't always heeded my own advice but now I know better and hope that this helps you, dear commenter.
If you have any other questions, don't hesitate to write below and I'll try to elaborate further.
Monday, December 23, 2013
This is really happening!
I'm having wrist surgery soon (I hurt myself again) and as the surgeon and I were discussing my MRI at my pre-op appointment it hit me that in 10 years, I will be in my doctor's shoes: diagnosing patients and then operating on them.* In fact, in 5-6 years I'll be doing some sort of operating with supervision. That's absolutely terrifying.
Ten years is a long time and a lot can happen between now and then. But it's still scary to have a definitive time frame for when I'll be doing doctory things on my own. This is actually happening and it's no longer just a pipe dream. It's crazy.
Also, the highlight of this operation is that I'm just getting a nerve block** instead of general anesthesia so I'll be awake for the whole thing.
I kind of want to ask my surgeon if I can watch. It'll be like shadowing in the OR but better.
---
*I'm not set on any particular specialty yet because I'm well aware that it can (and most likely will) change over the next several years. However, based on how I like to do things and the way I think, I'm pretty sure I'll end up in some sort of surgical specialty, or at the very least something heavily procedural.
** More specifically, I'm getting a Bier block, which in and of itself is pretty cool. They take all the blood out of your arm through the use of elastic bandages and gravity, and keep it out with pneumatic tourniquets. Then anesthetic is injected through an IV near the wrist and sets into the tissues for about 20 minutes, at which point the tourniquets are deflated and bloodflow returns to the arm. Or, if the procedure is short enough, then they leave the tourniquets on and operate in a bloodless field. So cool!
I've never been exsanguinated before. This might be my new "Two Thruths and a Lie" truth.
Ten years is a long time and a lot can happen between now and then. But it's still scary to have a definitive time frame for when I'll be doing doctory things on my own. This is actually happening and it's no longer just a pipe dream. It's crazy.
Also, the highlight of this operation is that I'm just getting a nerve block** instead of general anesthesia so I'll be awake for the whole thing.
I kind of want to ask my surgeon if I can watch. It'll be like shadowing in the OR but better.
---
*I'm not set on any particular specialty yet because I'm well aware that it can (and most likely will) change over the next several years. However, based on how I like to do things and the way I think, I'm pretty sure I'll end up in some sort of surgical specialty, or at the very least something heavily procedural.
** More specifically, I'm getting a Bier block, which in and of itself is pretty cool. They take all the blood out of your arm through the use of elastic bandages and gravity, and keep it out with pneumatic tourniquets. Then anesthetic is injected through an IV near the wrist and sets into the tissues for about 20 minutes, at which point the tourniquets are deflated and bloodflow returns to the arm. Or, if the procedure is short enough, then they leave the tourniquets on and operate in a bloodless field. So cool!
I've never been exsanguinated before. This might be my new "Two Thruths and a Lie" truth.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Not nearly as stressed as last cycle
If you couldn't tell from the few pictures I've posted on here, I'm female. Usually, this isn't worth mentioning because we're all the same, with slight differences in anatomy. But when it comes to rugby, women aren't exactly treated as equals. It's very much an old boys club, especially in the referee circles, and women are just now breaking into it. Unfortunately this means that we get shafted based solely on our gender and nothing else.
I've been fighting with the guy who assigns matches in my referee society for many months to get better games so I can improve and advance through the ranks. I haven't gotten anywhere with him and it's reached the point where I really want to quit until I move for medical school and join a different, less dysfunctional referee society.
But I suck at quitting things. So instead, I've been stressing about how the next nine months will shape out, especially since referee elections are coming up soon and therefore, there's a possibility of a change in leadership. When I stress, I dream about my stress, which really doesn't help matters at all.
I asked my roommate what I should do about this because I can't be thinking, dreaming, and obsessing over refereeing all the time. It's draining. Her suggestion: "What about medical school?"
What about it? For some reason, I am so relaxed about this cycle. I have not been stressed more than 5 minutes since I submitted my application in June. There have definitely been times when I've been worried about how this year will shape up, but they haven't lasted long. I have a good feeling about this cycle and the five interview invitations I've received thus far have definitely helped in that respect.
So instead of freaking out about medical school admissions like last year, most of my stress has been channeled to this stupid rugby referee society and its old boys club.
This could all change if none of my interviews turn into acceptances, but for now life is swell at least, with regards to medical school admissions. I hope it stays that way.
I've been fighting with the guy who assigns matches in my referee society for many months to get better games so I can improve and advance through the ranks. I haven't gotten anywhere with him and it's reached the point where I really want to quit until I move for medical school and join a different, less dysfunctional referee society.
But I suck at quitting things. So instead, I've been stressing about how the next nine months will shape out, especially since referee elections are coming up soon and therefore, there's a possibility of a change in leadership. When I stress, I dream about my stress, which really doesn't help matters at all.
I asked my roommate what I should do about this because I can't be thinking, dreaming, and obsessing over refereeing all the time. It's draining. Her suggestion: "What about medical school?"
What about it? For some reason, I am so relaxed about this cycle. I have not been stressed more than 5 minutes since I submitted my application in June. There have definitely been times when I've been worried about how this year will shape up, but they haven't lasted long. I have a good feeling about this cycle and the five interview invitations I've received thus far have definitely helped in that respect.
So instead of freaking out about medical school admissions like last year, most of my stress has been channeled to this stupid rugby referee society and its old boys club.
This could all change if none of my interviews turn into acceptances, but for now life is swell at least, with regards to medical school admissions. I hope it stays that way.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Why I didn't get accepted last cycle
A commenter asked today why I think I didn't get in last cycle so here is my very long-winded (as always) explanation.
I believe there are several reasons for my many rejections, in order of effect on my application:
Late submission of secondary essays:
The most significant one is the first: my applications were complete very, very late. I was verified by AMCAS by the first week of August, which is actually still fine. However, I took my time submitting my secondary essays and that's what really cost me.
Most of them were submitted in mid-September, meaning my application wasn't complete until October or even November. By that point, many interview invitations had already been given out and I was competing with more applicants for fewer spots. Not good odds with my numbers.
Bombing interviews:
I did receive two interview invitations and both of them resulted in waitlist positions. These were the two schools at which I submitted my secondary applications relatively early (within two weeks of receipt of them and complete by mid- to late August). That supports my theory that as long as you submit before Labor Day, you have a decent chance of getting interview invitations.
As for why they resulted in waitlists, the reasons differ for each school. I bombed the first interview at which I actually had a very good chance of getting accepted had it gone well (2 in 1 odds). It was my first interview, I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and I had a lot riding on it (it was and still is my dream school).
As a result, I was off my game. I expressed excitement at the wrong moments, such as when talking about my hobbies instead of describing my passion for medicine; some of my answers weren't phrased well and thus either weren't convincing or came off as naive; and I just didn't lay on enough charm.
I thought my second interview went really well, given the interviewers I was paired with. But the school doesn't take many out-of-state applicants as it is, had over-accepted people the year before (they had to give a few students incentives to defer for one year) and as a result accepted fewer people in general. Thus, it was a perfect storm for placing me on the waitlist.
Low GPA, both cumulative and science
Now onto my actual application. I didn't take school seriously as an undergraduate and my transcript reflects that. I literally have every grade my school offered, from A to F (including +s and -s), a W here and there, as well as a Pass for Pass/Fail courses. This resulted in sub-3.00 cumulative and science GPAs. Yeah, I did a number on my future during those four years.
I went back to school a couple of years ago to take pre-requisite classes since I had only completed a few of them in undergrad (thank God!) before dropping the pre-med thing back then. I managed to do a fair amount of GPA repair because I rocked them.
Unfortunately, I was a science major in undergrad but fortunately most of my major classes weren't classified as BCPM (Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Math) by AMCAS. This resulted in me being able to raise my science GPA nearly to 3.50.
My cumulative GPA remains at ~3.10, which is well below the 10th percentile at most schools. There is no amount of classes I can take to make my cumulative GPA competitive so I've stopped trying to raise it. Instead, I've applied mostly to schools that take a holistic approach to applicants and I hope they see past my immaturity from nearly a decade ago.
It also helps that I have a high MCAT score (36R) and have performed extremely well in upper-division biology and chemistry classes. It definitely eases the concerns of admissions committees about my ability to perform in medical school. So this may not be that big of a factor as long as a human lays eyes on my application.
Insufficient activities (up for debate)
I believe there are several reasons for my many rejections, in order of effect on my application:
- Late submission of secondary essays
- Bombing interviews
- Low GPA, both cumulative and science
- Insufficient activities (up for debate)
Late submission of secondary essays:
The most significant one is the first: my applications were complete very, very late. I was verified by AMCAS by the first week of August, which is actually still fine. However, I took my time submitting my secondary essays and that's what really cost me.
Most of them were submitted in mid-September, meaning my application wasn't complete until October or even November. By that point, many interview invitations had already been given out and I was competing with more applicants for fewer spots. Not good odds with my numbers.
Bombing interviews:
I did receive two interview invitations and both of them resulted in waitlist positions. These were the two schools at which I submitted my secondary applications relatively early (within two weeks of receipt of them and complete by mid- to late August). That supports my theory that as long as you submit before Labor Day, you have a decent chance of getting interview invitations.
As for why they resulted in waitlists, the reasons differ for each school. I bombed the first interview at which I actually had a very good chance of getting accepted had it gone well (2 in 1 odds). It was my first interview, I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, and I had a lot riding on it (it was and still is my dream school).
As a result, I was off my game. I expressed excitement at the wrong moments, such as when talking about my hobbies instead of describing my passion for medicine; some of my answers weren't phrased well and thus either weren't convincing or came off as naive; and I just didn't lay on enough charm.
I thought my second interview went really well, given the interviewers I was paired with. But the school doesn't take many out-of-state applicants as it is, had over-accepted people the year before (they had to give a few students incentives to defer for one year) and as a result accepted fewer people in general. Thus, it was a perfect storm for placing me on the waitlist.
Low GPA, both cumulative and science
Now onto my actual application. I didn't take school seriously as an undergraduate and my transcript reflects that. I literally have every grade my school offered, from A to F (including +s and -s), a W here and there, as well as a Pass for Pass/Fail courses. This resulted in sub-3.00 cumulative and science GPAs. Yeah, I did a number on my future during those four years.
I went back to school a couple of years ago to take pre-requisite classes since I had only completed a few of them in undergrad (thank God!) before dropping the pre-med thing back then. I managed to do a fair amount of GPA repair because I rocked them.
Unfortunately, I was a science major in undergrad but fortunately most of my major classes weren't classified as BCPM (Biology, Chemistry, Physics, Math) by AMCAS. This resulted in me being able to raise my science GPA nearly to 3.50.
My cumulative GPA remains at ~3.10, which is well below the 10th percentile at most schools. There is no amount of classes I can take to make my cumulative GPA competitive so I've stopped trying to raise it. Instead, I've applied mostly to schools that take a holistic approach to applicants and I hope they see past my immaturity from nearly a decade ago.
It also helps that I have a high MCAT score (36R) and have performed extremely well in upper-division biology and chemistry classes. It definitely eases the concerns of admissions committees about my ability to perform in medical school. So this may not be that big of a factor as long as a human lays eyes on my application.
Insufficient activities (up for debate)
This is where the answer isn't very clear-cut. I either have a really strong application or I shouldn't bother applying until I strengthen it. Depends on whom you ask.
Luckily, my committee letter writers are in the first boat otherwise I wouldn't have been offered any interviews last cycle. On the other hand, other well-respected people said they wouldn't have given me an interview even if I was the first application they saw. In their minds, my activities are too old, too impersonal, and I'm not productive enough with my spare time.
There is some merit to these concerns, especially now that I'm a reapplicant, so I'm fixing those areas in case I have to reapply yet again. I really hope it doesn't come to that but from some discussions with people, it's a legitimate concern.
Friday, June 21, 2013
The shame of reapplying
I read an article today about how to structure an application as a reapplicant and it pretty much negates everything I thought I should do.
I personally am ashamed of not getting accepted to medical school last cycle and having to reapply this year. I cringe every time I have to tell somebody that I didn't get in. So I thought it'd be best to pretend that chapter of my life didn't occur. By that I mean, there is no mention of me being a reapplicant anywhere in my application (well, except for the box I have to check saying I'm reapplying).
Apparently, though, sometimes reapplying is looked upon favorably by admissions committees. It shows you're resilient and persistent and really want to pursue medicine as a career. I don't know how that's not evident from the fact that I practically quit my job a couple of years ago, spent thousands of dollars and hours on pre-requisite courses, and kicked butt in my classes and on my MCAT. But I guess I have to put that in words instead of showing it through my activities.
I've already submitted my primary application so there is no changing my personal statement. It would've been the perfect concluding paragraph. However, I have a second chance at communicating my persistence and resilience in the form of secondary applications. I'm sure I can find a way to mention this in most prompts so I still have a chance to let schools know I'm better for going through that experience.
I'm just glad I stumbled upon that article before I submitted all my materials and not after. All is not lost quite yet.
I personally am ashamed of not getting accepted to medical school last cycle and having to reapply this year. I cringe every time I have to tell somebody that I didn't get in. So I thought it'd be best to pretend that chapter of my life didn't occur. By that I mean, there is no mention of me being a reapplicant anywhere in my application (well, except for the box I have to check saying I'm reapplying).
Apparently, though, sometimes reapplying is looked upon favorably by admissions committees. It shows you're resilient and persistent and really want to pursue medicine as a career. I don't know how that's not evident from the fact that I practically quit my job a couple of years ago, spent thousands of dollars and hours on pre-requisite courses, and kicked butt in my classes and on my MCAT. But I guess I have to put that in words instead of showing it through my activities.
I've already submitted my primary application so there is no changing my personal statement. It would've been the perfect concluding paragraph. However, I have a second chance at communicating my persistence and resilience in the form of secondary applications. I'm sure I can find a way to mention this in most prompts so I still have a chance to let schools know I'm better for going through that experience.
I'm just glad I stumbled upon that article before I submitted all my materials and not after. All is not lost quite yet.
Monday, June 17, 2013
My true feelings
I've been trying to remain cheery/not slip into depression about this cycle and my position on two waitlists, but this blind optimism is slowly slipping away. Also, enough people read this blog that I should say something about what's truly going on in my head instead of leaving you to wonder and read between the lines.
I'm pissed off.
That's the best emotion I can think of to describe my state of mind.
I'm so angry with myself for screwing up my dream school interview, which I'm convinced cost me an acceptance. I'm also mad that I took so long to send in my secondary applications last cycle, because if I had done them promptly then maybe I would've had a "practice" interview elsewhere prior to my dream school and I would've been better prepared. And then maybe, just maybe, I would be matriculating in August.
But mostly, I'm pissed off that I will be spending another full year wasting time and willing it to pass faster.* After all my applications are sent in, there is nothing for me to do but wait. And I hate waiting. I wait all day for my friends to finish work so I have human contact. I'm so tired of this kind of existence that I look forward to my weekly physical therapy (I hurt myself again), which in another life I would call physical torture.
So yeah, I'm angry.
Now I'm going to go ride my bike to dissipate some of my anger and/or channel it into physical suffering. At least that'll kill some time.
---
*This is if I don't get another job in the near future, which is the worst case scenario. I'm looking but it's really hard to get a job these days, especially if you misspell your hypothetical future boss' name on the cover letter. Yup, I did that. It didn't help the feeling of anger, and was the inspiration for this blog post.
I'm pissed off.
That's the best emotion I can think of to describe my state of mind.
I'm so angry with myself for screwing up my dream school interview, which I'm convinced cost me an acceptance. I'm also mad that I took so long to send in my secondary applications last cycle, because if I had done them promptly then maybe I would've had a "practice" interview elsewhere prior to my dream school and I would've been better prepared. And then maybe, just maybe, I would be matriculating in August.
But mostly, I'm pissed off that I will be spending another full year wasting time and willing it to pass faster.* After all my applications are sent in, there is nothing for me to do but wait. And I hate waiting. I wait all day for my friends to finish work so I have human contact. I'm so tired of this kind of existence that I look forward to my weekly physical therapy (I hurt myself again), which in another life I would call physical torture.
So yeah, I'm angry.
Now I'm going to go ride my bike to dissipate some of my anger and/or channel it into physical suffering. At least that'll kill some time.
---
*This is if I don't get another job in the near future, which is the worst case scenario. I'm looking but it's really hard to get a job these days, especially if you misspell your hypothetical future boss' name on the cover letter. Yup, I did that. It didn't help the feeling of anger, and was the inspiration for this blog post.
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Coming to terms with the possibility of reapplying
I've been really worried about the prospect of reapplying because I really don't want to wait another year to get started on my dream. I've already put it off long enough and I'm kind of over waiting for my life to begin.
But much like one eventually goes through the five stages of grief after a tragic event*, on my Things-Out-Of-My-Control Scale I have made it through denial, anger, bargaining, and depression to eventually arrive at not-giving-a-sh!t, or as others would call it, acceptance. (My way of dealing with stress directly mirrors the typical stages of grief and ever since I've figured this out, it's made managing my stress so much more...manageable.)
I've only received two interviews. The first one didn't go very well in my opinion and the second school has a very low out-of-state acceptance rate, even post-interview. So it's not looking good for me this cycle.
Before the holidays I paid a visit to my pre-med advisor (the one who's the most positive of the three because I needed a pick-me-up) to discuss my options for the coming year and how I should improve my application if I do have to reapply.
She boosted my ego by saying I have the "ideal career changer application" and thus there aren't any gaping holes to fix, and that my late secondary submissions are most likely to blame for my lack of interview invitations. She also said that there's a surge of interview invites in December and January so I shouldn't start worrying until February about hearing crickets from medical schools.
In addition, if I do end up reapplying, I learned that I don't have to completely revamp my application because schools understand that a good applicant can be rejected simply due to submitting secondaries late in the game, and such rejections do not necessarily indicate a red flag in the application. So overall, my themes and ideas can remain the same, but I just need to edit my essays a little more and add some things to my existing activity descriptions that I've done in the past year.
As such, reapplying is not as daunting of a task as I thought it would be with regards to essay-writing so that definitely helps my psyche. This also doesn't make it seem nearly as bad as I believed it would be when the thought first crossed my mind.
The one thing I am concerned about, though, is my dream school because I wasn't late in submitting my primary or secondary application there by any means. Thus I believe that the only reason I wouldn't get in would be because I bombed the interview. So maybe I should change up my application to make it stronger for them. Or I should simply pick a different topic for my secondary answer if/when I get a second chance. Or kicking butt on the interview the second time around if I do get such an opportunity would be enough to tip the scales in my favor.
I don't know at this point. I'm speculating too much on matters I have no idea about or control over and I should just stop for my own sanity.
---
*I don't know why I've mentioned death/sad stuff so much in the past couple of posts. It's probably because I've spent too much time with my parents. Every time they ask me if I knew someone, it's a safe bet that the next thing out of their mouths will be, "They have cancer." Or, "They died." Just last week I found out that my dad's coworker was killed in a motorcycle accident. Morbid conversations run in the family.
But much like one eventually goes through the five stages of grief after a tragic event*, on my Things-Out-Of-My-Control Scale I have made it through denial, anger, bargaining, and depression to eventually arrive at not-giving-a-sh!t, or as others would call it, acceptance. (My way of dealing with stress directly mirrors the typical stages of grief and ever since I've figured this out, it's made managing my stress so much more...manageable.)
I've only received two interviews. The first one didn't go very well in my opinion and the second school has a very low out-of-state acceptance rate, even post-interview. So it's not looking good for me this cycle.
Before the holidays I paid a visit to my pre-med advisor (the one who's the most positive of the three because I needed a pick-me-up) to discuss my options for the coming year and how I should improve my application if I do have to reapply.
She boosted my ego by saying I have the "ideal career changer application" and thus there aren't any gaping holes to fix, and that my late secondary submissions are most likely to blame for my lack of interview invitations. She also said that there's a surge of interview invites in December and January so I shouldn't start worrying until February about hearing crickets from medical schools.
In addition, if I do end up reapplying, I learned that I don't have to completely revamp my application because schools understand that a good applicant can be rejected simply due to submitting secondaries late in the game, and such rejections do not necessarily indicate a red flag in the application. So overall, my themes and ideas can remain the same, but I just need to edit my essays a little more and add some things to my existing activity descriptions that I've done in the past year.
As such, reapplying is not as daunting of a task as I thought it would be with regards to essay-writing so that definitely helps my psyche. This also doesn't make it seem nearly as bad as I believed it would be when the thought first crossed my mind.
The one thing I am concerned about, though, is my dream school because I wasn't late in submitting my primary or secondary application there by any means. Thus I believe that the only reason I wouldn't get in would be because I bombed the interview. So maybe I should change up my application to make it stronger for them. Or I should simply pick a different topic for my secondary answer if/when I get a second chance. Or kicking butt on the interview the second time around if I do get such an opportunity would be enough to tip the scales in my favor.
I don't know at this point. I'm speculating too much on matters I have no idea about or control over and I should just stop for my own sanity.
---
*I don't know why I've mentioned death/sad stuff so much in the past couple of posts. It's probably because I've spent too much time with my parents. Every time they ask me if I knew someone, it's a safe bet that the next thing out of their mouths will be, "They have cancer." Or, "They died." Just last week I found out that my dad's coworker was killed in a motorcycle accident. Morbid conversations run in the family.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Putting a pet down and end-of-life care decisions
Two things about this post before I go on:
1) It may be a bit heavy for the holidays, and
2) I promise that the two things in the title are related.
I have 15-year-old Siberian Husky that's had its fair share of health problems: diabetes, cataract surgery, liver cancer, debilitating arthritis...you get the point. She's old. My mom refuses to put her down. Like, we have made appointments with the vet and at the last minute she'll change her mind and not allow us to take the dog.
But the thing is, the dog needs to go and I say this in the most compassionate and sorrowful way I can convey over the internet. She can't stand for more than a minute. She has trouble standing up at all and makes it about 4 steps on average before falling over (not sitting down...I literally mean falling over, often onto her side). We have to hold her up so she can pee and often she soils herself before we can get her outside. In short, it's her time to go. And I wholeheartedly believe that we'd be doing the right thing by putting her down. Mom thinks the opposite and refuses to budge.
How does this relate to medicine and more importantly, human medicine? Well, it seems to me that the feelings toward extending someone's or something's life are reversed here as compared to how these decisions are regularly made.
I have been in healthcare for a while and I've seen relatives insist on keeping their elderly parent alive at all costs even when the patient's quality of life is non-existent. Usually these relatives are detached from direct care of the patient either due to distance or lack of relationship, and simply cannot bear the thought of losing the patient because they "want more time."
Usually this request to keep the patient alive is due to their guilt about not spending enough time with their loved ones in the years leading up to the illness, and thus they feel like they need to extend the parent's life as long as possible to squeeze in the time they've missed.
On the other hand, the caretakers and/or the family members who see the patient on a regular basis watch the suffering and decline of their loved one and thus are better able to come to terms with the end of their parent's life. In fact, in some cases death is seen as a relief and a thing that some people wish upon their loved one simply to end their suffering.
All of this is a gross oversimplification of an abundance of end-of-life issues and this scenario is not always the case, obviously. But if a trend can be attached to this stage of one's life, then this would be it.
However, it seems that the roles are reversed in my family. My mom, who does nearly all of the care-taking, insists on keeping my dog alive until she dies on her own (not happening any time soon, from what I can tell) even if that means she lives a miserable existence until then. On the other hand, my brother and I, who both live several states away and rarely see the dog these days, are completely okay with putting her down.
This does not mean we want to get rid of her by any means. I wish she could live forever, but unfortunately at this point in her life she has absolutely no quality of life, seems to suffer through her days, and gets no joy out of anything that happens around her. In the several weeks I've spent with her between October and today, I haven't seen her wag her tail once or show any interest in the delicious meaty dishes we cook up every day. She used to run/meander to the kitchen from the front yard as recently as June, so this is totally out of character and a good indication of the loss of her personality.
I know that putting a pet down does not compare to saying goodbye to a mother or a father, or any human member of one's family. But this dog situation and the family dynamics surrounding it have got me thinking about the human aspect of these issues.
I am a huge proponent of ceasing medical interventions at the request of the patient at a certain point in their care and letting them die with dignity and on their own terms when it becomes clear that they are terminally ill (which translates to putting a pet down in the animal world). This does not mean I advocate euthanasia but I definitely think hospice has a great role to play in patient care and it needs to be considered as an option more often than it is currently.
This situation has also started a discussion within my family about what we want others to do for us when we reach that point in our lives. That, and writing about it all helps take away some of the anger and helplessness I feel about watching my dog suffer unnecessarily.
Lastly, there are more complicated issues surrounding my mom's resistance to putting my dog down than what I have included here. I don't agree with them, but they exist. Regardless, I don't want this to become a discussion (between my three readers and me) about my mom's decisions or what we should do in this situation. We've discussed it ad nauseum and I really don't want to hear about it anymore.
Other than that, discuss away and happy holidays!
1) It may be a bit heavy for the holidays, and
2) I promise that the two things in the title are related.
I have 15-year-old Siberian Husky that's had its fair share of health problems: diabetes, cataract surgery, liver cancer, debilitating arthritis...you get the point. She's old. My mom refuses to put her down. Like, we have made appointments with the vet and at the last minute she'll change her mind and not allow us to take the dog.
 |
| My dog in old, but better, years. |
But the thing is, the dog needs to go and I say this in the most compassionate and sorrowful way I can convey over the internet. She can't stand for more than a minute. She has trouble standing up at all and makes it about 4 steps on average before falling over (not sitting down...I literally mean falling over, often onto her side). We have to hold her up so she can pee and often she soils herself before we can get her outside. In short, it's her time to go. And I wholeheartedly believe that we'd be doing the right thing by putting her down. Mom thinks the opposite and refuses to budge.
How does this relate to medicine and more importantly, human medicine? Well, it seems to me that the feelings toward extending someone's or something's life are reversed here as compared to how these decisions are regularly made.
I have been in healthcare for a while and I've seen relatives insist on keeping their elderly parent alive at all costs even when the patient's quality of life is non-existent. Usually these relatives are detached from direct care of the patient either due to distance or lack of relationship, and simply cannot bear the thought of losing the patient because they "want more time."
Usually this request to keep the patient alive is due to their guilt about not spending enough time with their loved ones in the years leading up to the illness, and thus they feel like they need to extend the parent's life as long as possible to squeeze in the time they've missed.
On the other hand, the caretakers and/or the family members who see the patient on a regular basis watch the suffering and decline of their loved one and thus are better able to come to terms with the end of their parent's life. In fact, in some cases death is seen as a relief and a thing that some people wish upon their loved one simply to end their suffering.
All of this is a gross oversimplification of an abundance of end-of-life issues and this scenario is not always the case, obviously. But if a trend can be attached to this stage of one's life, then this would be it.
However, it seems that the roles are reversed in my family. My mom, who does nearly all of the care-taking, insists on keeping my dog alive until she dies on her own (not happening any time soon, from what I can tell) even if that means she lives a miserable existence until then. On the other hand, my brother and I, who both live several states away and rarely see the dog these days, are completely okay with putting her down.
This does not mean we want to get rid of her by any means. I wish she could live forever, but unfortunately at this point in her life she has absolutely no quality of life, seems to suffer through her days, and gets no joy out of anything that happens around her. In the several weeks I've spent with her between October and today, I haven't seen her wag her tail once or show any interest in the delicious meaty dishes we cook up every day. She used to run/meander to the kitchen from the front yard as recently as June, so this is totally out of character and a good indication of the loss of her personality.
I know that putting a pet down does not compare to saying goodbye to a mother or a father, or any human member of one's family. But this dog situation and the family dynamics surrounding it have got me thinking about the human aspect of these issues.
I am a huge proponent of ceasing medical interventions at the request of the patient at a certain point in their care and letting them die with dignity and on their own terms when it becomes clear that they are terminally ill (which translates to putting a pet down in the animal world). This does not mean I advocate euthanasia but I definitely think hospice has a great role to play in patient care and it needs to be considered as an option more often than it is currently.
This situation has also started a discussion within my family about what we want others to do for us when we reach that point in our lives. That, and writing about it all helps take away some of the anger and helplessness I feel about watching my dog suffer unnecessarily.
Lastly, there are more complicated issues surrounding my mom's resistance to putting my dog down than what I have included here. I don't agree with them, but they exist. Regardless, I don't want this to become a discussion (between my three readers and me) about my mom's decisions or what we should do in this situation. We've discussed it ad nauseum and I really don't want to hear about it anymore.
Other than that, discuss away and happy holidays!
 |
| Dirty camping dog, at age 13. |
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Stressing out
I promised myself I wouldn't be one of those neurotic pre-meds during the application cycle but I've turned into an unrecognizable ball of stress. I'm riling myself up to the point of getting sick days before my next interview, and I absolutely NEVER get sick normally. I didn't even fall ill in the days leading up to the MCAT. And I stayed healthy while waiting to get my MCAT scores when I was pretty sure I had scored sub-30, which would have been the death of my chances to get into medical school this cycle.
Not hearing back from my dream school when I know a good chunk of others have already gotten in is the source of most of this stress. I know they will continue reviewing my file until March but if they didn't love me this time, what's going to change between now and then? I have nothing more to give.
It also doesn't help that at this point I thoroughly believe I bombed the interview. Every time I go over the answers I gave, the worse they seem to be. Or at least only the low points stick out in my mind right now. Maybe I should've smiled more throughout the day (I remember being exhausted), or channeled my enthusiasm towards "Why medicine?" instead of only perking up at the mention of broomball (and the prospect of an ethics question...I did get visibly excited when that came up). Or perhaps I should not have challenged my interviewer with an emphatic, "I know." But I really did know, and it seemed like the appropriate response at the time.
I like to worry and work myself up about things. Take this and this and this and this as examples, and I can provide many more. I used to be really good about letting things go but I feel like my admission into this school is still somewhat within my control. And that's why I just can't ignore the silence and simply wait for some form of communication from them. I feel like I need to DO something.
In addition to all that, not only do I REALLY want to get into this school, but it's also the only one at which I have a decent chance of getting into. I've only received two interview offers total this application season (thus far, of course, but it doesn't look like any more are coming along) and the other school is very hard to get into as an out-of-state applicant. So if I can't get into my local school, who else is going to take me? The thought of going through this again is absolutely sickening.
Honestly, I don't know what the point of this post is, besides maybe to vent. But writing this all out has helped me realize that I really need to chill out and enjoy this year off, because it'll be a while until I have this much free time again.
And in that respect, I really have taken preventative measures to minimize thinking about this process. I've blocked the friends who are also applying this cycle from my Facebook feed, I've cut myself off from SDN (again), and I've told my family not to mention medical school applications to me even just to inquire about how it's going. I'll update them if/when something changes.
The final step is finding a new hobby that will take an inordinate amount of time and has nothing to do with medicine whatsoever. Underwater basket-weaving, perhaps?
Not hearing back from my dream school when I know a good chunk of others have already gotten in is the source of most of this stress. I know they will continue reviewing my file until March but if they didn't love me this time, what's going to change between now and then? I have nothing more to give.
It also doesn't help that at this point I thoroughly believe I bombed the interview. Every time I go over the answers I gave, the worse they seem to be. Or at least only the low points stick out in my mind right now. Maybe I should've smiled more throughout the day (I remember being exhausted), or channeled my enthusiasm towards "Why medicine?" instead of only perking up at the mention of broomball (and the prospect of an ethics question...I did get visibly excited when that came up). Or perhaps I should not have challenged my interviewer with an emphatic, "I know." But I really did know, and it seemed like the appropriate response at the time.
I like to worry and work myself up about things. Take this and this and this and this as examples, and I can provide many more. I used to be really good about letting things go but I feel like my admission into this school is still somewhat within my control. And that's why I just can't ignore the silence and simply wait for some form of communication from them. I feel like I need to DO something.
In addition to all that, not only do I REALLY want to get into this school, but it's also the only one at which I have a decent chance of getting into. I've only received two interview offers total this application season (thus far, of course, but it doesn't look like any more are coming along) and the other school is very hard to get into as an out-of-state applicant. So if I can't get into my local school, who else is going to take me? The thought of going through this again is absolutely sickening.
Honestly, I don't know what the point of this post is, besides maybe to vent. But writing this all out has helped me realize that I really need to chill out and enjoy this year off, because it'll be a while until I have this much free time again.
And in that respect, I really have taken preventative measures to minimize thinking about this process. I've blocked the friends who are also applying this cycle from my Facebook feed, I've cut myself off from SDN (again), and I've told my family not to mention medical school applications to me even just to inquire about how it's going. I'll update them if/when something changes.
The final step is finding a new hobby that will take an inordinate amount of time and has nothing to do with medicine whatsoever. Underwater basket-weaving, perhaps?
Sunday, October 21, 2012
This does not bode well for a career in medicine
I recently began refereeing rugby because I know my days as a player are limited and I need another way to stay involved in the sport.
Yesterday, I helped with an all-day tournament during which I refereed 14 games of 14 minutes each (7s, for those who know rugby). I left home before sunrise and got back well after sunset. By the last game of the tournament, my back hurt, my legs were sore, and I was in a generally foul mood.
It was simply exhausting, and a day later I'm still feeling the effects. I dragged myself out of bed this morning at 10 am just so I could fall asleep tonight. I spent the rest of the day in the hammock reading and now I'm waiting for it to get late enough so that it's acceptable to go to bed.
I don't remember tiring so easily last year when I had so much on my plate. I got a lot more accomplished with a lot less sleep and rest. So I'm hoping this is just the vacation version of me being mad that it had to do something, and now needing some time to recuperate.
Because if spending an entire day on my feet wipes me out for the entire next day, I am so screwed in medicine.
Yesterday, I helped with an all-day tournament during which I refereed 14 games of 14 minutes each (7s, for those who know rugby). I left home before sunrise and got back well after sunset. By the last game of the tournament, my back hurt, my legs were sore, and I was in a generally foul mood.
It was simply exhausting, and a day later I'm still feeling the effects. I dragged myself out of bed this morning at 10 am just so I could fall asleep tonight. I spent the rest of the day in the hammock reading and now I'm waiting for it to get late enough so that it's acceptable to go to bed.
I don't remember tiring so easily last year when I had so much on my plate. I got a lot more accomplished with a lot less sleep and rest. So I'm hoping this is just the vacation version of me being mad that it had to do something, and now needing some time to recuperate.
Because if spending an entire day on my feet wipes me out for the entire next day, I am so screwed in medicine.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Existential crisis
One of my secondary applications asks, "If you couldn’t be a health professional, what occupation would you choose?" Simple enough, right? Wrong!
It derailed my entire afternoon.
I got to thinking about all the other careers I thought would be fun and cool and how medicine sucks the life out of you with its years of training and stress. And although I could do a lot with an MD even if I didn't end up working in a hospital or similar capacity, I couldn't figure out if the whole MD thing was worth it.
Then I stepped away from the romanticized view of my life, thought about it logically, and looked for themes within all these jobs.
Here's the deal. I love working with people. I love science. I love working within a group. And I love doing something that improves someone else's life. The problem with these criteria is that they can be applied to jobs that have nothing to do with medicine. And that's where the existential crisis comes into play.
But when I really think about it and stop considering escapist thoughts, medicine fits quite well with everything. No matter what job I decide to pursue, I will be busting my butt for the next 10+ years if I want the level of success I hope for. So I may as well be doing something I've been dreaming about since high school, the only thing that truly fulfills me, and stop being a wuss about making a commitment. Because ultimately that is what is causing all this fear.
And here's another question from this application that I just can't figure out an answer to: "What is your most prized possession?"
I can write a killer essay about moral dilemmas, being humbled, or overcoming a challenge, but for the life of me I just cannot think of a prized possession. Honestly, if my house was burning down, there is nothing I would run inside to rescue. Can I just say that I'm a minimalist?
And on a completely unrelated note, late late Monday night I was sitting on the couch watching "The Big Bang Theory" when I heard what sounded like a rabid dog attacking something that squeeled very loudly just outside my window. A normal person would go outside to chase it away. I ran upstairs and climbed into my roommate's bed. Yup, I'm fearless.
It turns out a mountain lion had eaten a neighborhood cat and was killed two blocks away by the animal control people because it had no fear of humans. So maybe it's a good thing I have an irrational fear of wildlife.
It derailed my entire afternoon.
I got to thinking about all the other careers I thought would be fun and cool and how medicine sucks the life out of you with its years of training and stress. And although I could do a lot with an MD even if I didn't end up working in a hospital or similar capacity, I couldn't figure out if the whole MD thing was worth it.
Then I stepped away from the romanticized view of my life, thought about it logically, and looked for themes within all these jobs.
Here's the deal. I love working with people. I love science. I love working within a group. And I love doing something that improves someone else's life. The problem with these criteria is that they can be applied to jobs that have nothing to do with medicine. And that's where the existential crisis comes into play.
But when I really think about it and stop considering escapist thoughts, medicine fits quite well with everything. No matter what job I decide to pursue, I will be busting my butt for the next 10+ years if I want the level of success I hope for. So I may as well be doing something I've been dreaming about since high school, the only thing that truly fulfills me, and stop being a wuss about making a commitment. Because ultimately that is what is causing all this fear.
And here's another question from this application that I just can't figure out an answer to: "What is your most prized possession?"
I can write a killer essay about moral dilemmas, being humbled, or overcoming a challenge, but for the life of me I just cannot think of a prized possession. Honestly, if my house was burning down, there is nothing I would run inside to rescue. Can I just say that I'm a minimalist?
And on a completely unrelated note, late late Monday night I was sitting on the couch watching "The Big Bang Theory" when I heard what sounded like a rabid dog attacking something that squeeled very loudly just outside my window. A normal person would go outside to chase it away. I ran upstairs and climbed into my roommate's bed. Yup, I'm fearless.
It turns out a mountain lion had eaten a neighborhood cat and was killed two blocks away by the animal control people because it had no fear of humans. So maybe it's a good thing I have an irrational fear of wildlife.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Regret
From a thread about being angry with yourself for being a non-trad...this is exactly how I feel about my life:
That great anger you're experiencing is called regret, and it's probably one of the worst things to ever cope with in life. However, when there's a will, there's a way - channel that anger into something that will help you achieve your goal.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
So done
I've only been in class for a little over a week and I'm already over it. At first I thought my one week at camp and another at home would be enough to recuperate from a summer of organic chemistry. I now know that I need much longer vacations. Or at least more restful ones.
I don't know if it's just the classes that I'm taking are doing me in, or if honestly I'm just over school. Switching gears from chemistry to biology has been hard for me, since I'm a much better problem-solver than a memorizer and the latter is what this semester is going to be about. I don't think I'm going to enjoy my classes nearly as much as I liked general and organic chemistry, and that's been the major contributor to my being down.
Overall, It's weird to be back in class at a much slower pace as compared to summer classes. I only have two hours of lecture a day on average with no labs, and am out of school by 11 am at the latest. I don't have to study (or feel guilty about not studying) every day I get home, worrying about a monstrous test every week. We spent the entire first week of this semester going over the basics of biology and physiology, things you learn in middle school. The slow pace is nice but it's also boring me to tears. I know this will all change soon enough, but the fact that the one quiz I've already had to take has stressed me out more than I would like to be stressed doesn't bode well for the rest of the semester.
Now, when I don't want to study, I can't tell myself that I need to suck it up for another week or two and then it'll all be over like I could with organic chemistry, because the semester has just begun and the next break is in November. I'm finding it hard to motivate myself to give myself a schedule that doesn't include a lot of lounging on the couch and eating take-out.
In short, I need a vacation. But since one isn't coming anytime soon, I need to get out of this funk.
I don't know if it's just the classes that I'm taking are doing me in, or if honestly I'm just over school. Switching gears from chemistry to biology has been hard for me, since I'm a much better problem-solver than a memorizer and the latter is what this semester is going to be about. I don't think I'm going to enjoy my classes nearly as much as I liked general and organic chemistry, and that's been the major contributor to my being down.
Overall, It's weird to be back in class at a much slower pace as compared to summer classes. I only have two hours of lecture a day on average with no labs, and am out of school by 11 am at the latest. I don't have to study (or feel guilty about not studying) every day I get home, worrying about a monstrous test every week. We spent the entire first week of this semester going over the basics of biology and physiology, things you learn in middle school. The slow pace is nice but it's also boring me to tears. I know this will all change soon enough, but the fact that the one quiz I've already had to take has stressed me out more than I would like to be stressed doesn't bode well for the rest of the semester.
Now, when I don't want to study, I can't tell myself that I need to suck it up for another week or two and then it'll all be over like I could with organic chemistry, because the semester has just begun and the next break is in November. I'm finding it hard to motivate myself to give myself a schedule that doesn't include a lot of lounging on the couch and eating take-out.
In short, I need a vacation. But since one isn't coming anytime soon, I need to get out of this funk.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Being a bad doctor, or so they say
This is going to be a loaded post, so stay with me if you can. I've also seriously debated posting this thing at all, but I've felt this way enough times in the past eight years that it's a valid feeling and shouldn't be ignored. So here it goes.
Every close friend I have ever spoken with has said that I would be a bad doctor. If they had the choice, they wouldn't come see me. Normally, I don't care what people think, but in this case, when I'm already questioning my decisions, this doesn't help things.
I put on a tough exterior, and I pretend to be a hardass when talking about children and puppies so I can kind of see the point. A lot of the time when I describe my day, I sound mean, intolerant, and grumpy. But I do care about people, and I'm actually really awesome with people of all ages. I can relate to almost anyone from any background. I grew up going from the developed United States during the year to essentially third world Eastern Europe during my summers, so I know how to adapt and deal with all kinds of people.
I have empathy, or can at least fake it, even if I complain about the stupid decisions my EMS patients make. I feel like my friends only hear the bad part of my job and thus my judgmental side, and don't see my interactions with the people I see.
But their harsh words have been worrying me. I used to be pre-med in undergrad. Even though I was so over school then, I still put in 12+ hours a week at the ambulance company and loved every minute of it. But running 911 calls got old eventually. And that's what scared me away from medicine. EMS became a dreadful job and not something I looked forward to every day. It was still exciting, but I didn't get the kind of thrill I used to experience even 6 months earlier. So I quit the medical track and decided that I could be happy without the years of schooling and sleep-loss and stress that medicine required.
I'm not in it for the adrenaline rush. I genuinely love fixing people's problems. It fulfills me and is absolutely amazing. But I'm worried that medicine will not be worth it in the end. Maybe I can satisfy my need to make people happy by putting on a good event, for example, or something that doesn't require as much education and years of training. I don't know, and that scares me a lot.
I still get jealous of all the stories my med school friends tell me. It's not the gnarly things they describe that pique my interest, but rather their ability to do something to the human body that makes it work correctly again. But will that wear off once I realize that most things are actually routine?
I shadowed a hand surgeon a couple days ago and it was an experience. It seemed like a lot of his patients had the same thing going on in one way or another. There was lots of carpel tunnel and fractures and pins. All in all, though, it didn't seem like he was stumped all that much. There weren't any real "a-ha!" moments and it all just seemed like an office job that he had gotten good at after working there for so long. Except, he's not that old, considering he had finished his hand fellowship about a year earlier. But if it's something you're passionate about, then it's not routine. And as another young doc I've spoken with recently said, "When you're responsible for someone's life, it doesn't get boring." There you have it.
Maybe the answer is doing a normal specialty with trauma on the side, to get some unpredictable things once in a while. But if my EMS experience is any indication, even emergencies become routine. And routine is not what I want after a decade of stressing, studying, and busting my butt to become a doctor.
At this point, I honestly don't know. Should I really go into medicine?
Every close friend I have ever spoken with has said that I would be a bad doctor. If they had the choice, they wouldn't come see me. Normally, I don't care what people think, but in this case, when I'm already questioning my decisions, this doesn't help things.
I put on a tough exterior, and I pretend to be a hardass when talking about children and puppies so I can kind of see the point. A lot of the time when I describe my day, I sound mean, intolerant, and grumpy. But I do care about people, and I'm actually really awesome with people of all ages. I can relate to almost anyone from any background. I grew up going from the developed United States during the year to essentially third world Eastern Europe during my summers, so I know how to adapt and deal with all kinds of people.
I have empathy, or can at least fake it, even if I complain about the stupid decisions my EMS patients make. I feel like my friends only hear the bad part of my job and thus my judgmental side, and don't see my interactions with the people I see.
But their harsh words have been worrying me. I used to be pre-med in undergrad. Even though I was so over school then, I still put in 12+ hours a week at the ambulance company and loved every minute of it. But running 911 calls got old eventually. And that's what scared me away from medicine. EMS became a dreadful job and not something I looked forward to every day. It was still exciting, but I didn't get the kind of thrill I used to experience even 6 months earlier. So I quit the medical track and decided that I could be happy without the years of schooling and sleep-loss and stress that medicine required.
I'm not in it for the adrenaline rush. I genuinely love fixing people's problems. It fulfills me and is absolutely amazing. But I'm worried that medicine will not be worth it in the end. Maybe I can satisfy my need to make people happy by putting on a good event, for example, or something that doesn't require as much education and years of training. I don't know, and that scares me a lot.
I still get jealous of all the stories my med school friends tell me. It's not the gnarly things they describe that pique my interest, but rather their ability to do something to the human body that makes it work correctly again. But will that wear off once I realize that most things are actually routine?
I shadowed a hand surgeon a couple days ago and it was an experience. It seemed like a lot of his patients had the same thing going on in one way or another. There was lots of carpel tunnel and fractures and pins. All in all, though, it didn't seem like he was stumped all that much. There weren't any real "a-ha!" moments and it all just seemed like an office job that he had gotten good at after working there for so long. Except, he's not that old, considering he had finished his hand fellowship about a year earlier. But if it's something you're passionate about, then it's not routine. And as another young doc I've spoken with recently said, "When you're responsible for someone's life, it doesn't get boring." There you have it.
Maybe the answer is doing a normal specialty with trauma on the side, to get some unpredictable things once in a while. But if my EMS experience is any indication, even emergencies become routine. And routine is not what I want after a decade of stressing, studying, and busting my butt to become a doctor.
At this point, I honestly don't know. Should I really go into medicine?
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